The Price of a Rose
by Moos90
Summary: Sometimes, a life will follow the steps of a legend. The bends and twists may be different, but the path taken is the same. So here I am, in a dank, dark cell just waiting for my prince to come. Only ... in my legend? There isn't a prince or a happy ever after. Which leaves me with a bit of a problem. AU with elements from the movie universe.
1. Prologue

**Greetings! ThrowingTrees and I thank you for taking time to read this story. We would love to hear from you so feel free to fill in that little white box at the bottom. We don't bite.**

**We will update this story on Saturday, every two weeks - though we have plans to take it down to once a week. Watch this space :)**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer; We don't own anything except the story plot and Caylan. If we did own more then that, we'd be funding research into teleportation, time travel and the ability to produce a never ending supply of popcorn. And ice cream.**

The Price of a Rose

Prologue

It is cold.

Her eyes are closed from exhaustion. The room around her is now familiar; in an effort to distract herself from the pain she has memorised all its features: the moist, cement ceiling with its green tinge, the walls which are freezing to touch, the wooden bed attached to the wall with two chains, the absence of a blanket or pillow.

The only light in the dark cell, comes from the small, barred window in the door. The door is made of thick steel. The first day she was thrown in here, she tried to kick it open. It didn't work.

She pulls up her knees to hug them. Tears roll down her cheeks and she rocks back and forth. It is a small motion, but it's comforting nonetheless.

Two days she has been suffering. Forty-eight increasingly agonizing hours. They come for her - silent and ghostly. Only ghosts couldn't drag you down corridors, place you in chairs and inject you with liquid that bubbled underneath your skin. Ghosts didn't drag you back, throw you into your cell and leave you to in a helpless heap of agony.

Sure, they feed her, if you can call the food they give her really food. She is pretty sure many dogs and cats are feed better. But why should they feed her properly? They are going to let her die anyway.

That's the only certainty in this place: death. That is one thing she is sure of. She feels it creeping closer with every hour. She knows what will cause it - the tests.

Every time they come, they blindfold her, dragging her with them.

She has started to memorize the way they take her: First they turn left. After fifteen steps, there is a dent in the floor; she has tripped over it more than once. After another five steps, there is a turn to the right and stairs with seventeen steps. They make her wait a second in order to open the door at the top of the stairs. It opens with a loud beep.

After they pass through that door, they walk through what she thinks is a hallway, though she isn't sure. It is long though. About twenty or twenty-five steps there is another door to go through, this one they pause at and she hears several bleeping sounds. She assumes they are entering a code into a keypad. The door slides open and she wonders what the code is.

When they enter the room behind that last door they take off her blindfold. She would much rather have it left on - the sterile white walls are enough to give her the shivers. They lead her to a chair, and strap her to it.

And then a woman, dressed in a starched lab coat, approaches her with the needle. The injection burns like scorching lava entering her veins. But she is getting used to it now. Pain has always been a companion. Now with every injection it is decreasing slightly - and this terrifies her.

After that they bring her back, and she passes out in her cell. But even that is improving.

_How do normal people cope with this?_ she wonders. _How can normal people live with the feeling of your body dying all around you. How can they ignore the feeling of every little fibre in their body, breaking down till they disappear? _

_I'm not a human, I shouldn't feel this._ She rubs her knees and wipes away the tears from her cheek. She leans back a bit against the stone wall behind her, but sits back up quickly again, because the stones are wet and cold.

_Why will they not kill me right now?_ she asks herself. _Why don't they kill me? She gives a short laugh because she never thought she would ever ask that question. They don't have any reason to keep me alive._

_They know Logan is not coming_, she clenches her jaw and wishes that the tears would stop. _Oh my sweet grumpy Logan. I miss you so much. I miss your smirk, and the way you grumble when they don't have your favourite beer. I even miss those horrible cigars and the way they smell._

She can't stop the sobs - deep and racking - when she thinks of him. She hugs her knees closer - as if they could take her heart-ache away.

_It's just too much_, she thinks, _how much longer can I bear this?_

_No!_ she tells herself_, I can't give up now. Someone has to avenge Logan. He is ... was ... everything to me. I can't give up now!_

She dries her tears, and puts her feet back on the floor_. I have to stay strong. I just need to oppose my thoughts. Distract my mind from the pain. _

She looks around, and wondered if the walls would speak and tell stories about the lives it had encountered; if it had ears and a mouth. _Maybe I should tell the wall my story. So that one day, if they find a way to make a wall speak; it can tell it when I'm long gone._

"Hey...wall" _Oh great...even I think I'm starting to lose my mind now. Talking to a wall...really Caylan?_ she shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "Ah...who cares..."

"Hey wall," she starts again, "I might as well introduce myself. My name is Caylan. I am what they call a mutant. I think you've probably seen more than your fair share of my type," she gestures to the walls, "in here."

Deciding to make herself more comfortable before she continues, she lays down with her hands behind her head for support. "So I'm a mutant. Yep," she nods her head, "a mutant. Even mutants have stories, hopes and dreams." Her eyes grow distant with memories, "And, and love." she adds in a low whisper.

"Did you know that there is a story that reflects my life?" she gives a bittersweet smile, "It isn't a pretty one - it has a horrible ending. Mine is different though; in the legend love is the reason it all goes wrong. In my life," she adds, thoughtfully, "it isn't."

"I guess I should start at the beginning ... like every story. Isn't it funny how stories don't start with everything going smoothly." Her eyes study the wall, "They always start with everything going wrong ..."


	2. Chapter 1

**Hello my Lovelies!**

** My Partner-in-Crime, ThrowingTrees and I would like to thank you for sticking up with us for yet another chapter. Enjoy!**

** Disclaimer: We, of course, don't own anything except for the story plot, and Caylan. If we did own more then that ... then we would: a) Buy a pair of jet-packs, b) Buy a lifetime's supply of popcorn, c) Make it rain popcorn. Because we could.**

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The Price of a Rose

Chapter One

The first day of the rest of my life.

_"In the end, everything is well. If it isn't well, it isn't the end."_

It's a saying my mother used to tell me whenever I was scared or sad. I remember one night, when the most terrifying nightmare tortured me in my sleep. I awoke, too scared to even leave my bed, and screamed, crying for my mom.

My mom came to my room to find me trembling and crying my eyes out underneath my blanket. She sat next to me and pulled me in her arms. She asked me what was wrong, and I told her about my nightmare. Now, I barely remember what it was about, but I do remember my mom's arms around me - like a shield of pure safety. She then told me, that I should go back to sleep again, because my dream was not finished yet. I told her I was too afraid to.

I was terrified the monsters from my dream would come. She gave me another long hug, and told me that everything ends well, if it didn't, it wasn't the end, so I should hurry back to sleep, because otherwise the bad part of the dream would never end. So she put me back, and tucked me in.

Giving me a kiss on my nose she told me to be brave and end my dream the only good way; head on. So I did. After that, whenever things got hard, I faced them head on; to make my mom proud.

And she was, always. It was just us together, ever since my dad left many years before.

When I was 17, I thought my life was perfect. I had friends and my mom. And I was pretty good at school. I didn't know that everything was about to change; that my world was to be tipped upside down. It all started on that horrible morning...

My mom's voice woke me as she called up the stairs, "Cay, sweetie? You are going to be late for school!"

I slowly turned around in my bed, my blankets all wrapped around me. As I hugged them tighter, I heard my mom coming up the stairs. I tried to keep my eyes closed and keep the sleep and slumber close to me. I tried to embrace it again but...

"Sweetie, you really need to get out of bed now," my mom sighed as she walked into my room. She stopped, her eyes wide, "My word, what a mess you made again, I thought you promised me that you would clean it up. Your entire wardrobe is on the floor!" She picked up a piece of clothing from the mountain of clothes, were somewhere underneath should have been a chair.

"Yeah, yeah, Mom I am so sorry," I mumbled while trying to unwrap my blankets around me. "I really cleaned it up; I just lost some stuff after I did and made this mess again while searching for it." I sat up in bed, yawning and stretching my arms and back.

"Hmm I should call you Miss X," my mom said as she walked through the mounds to my overflowing desk. She picked up a few papers from it, only to put them back down a moment later.

"Miss X, mom?"

"Yes, sweetie, for Miss 'X'cuse." Her face grew stern as she warned me, "I really want your room cleaned by the end of the week, otherwise I will do it for you." Looking around one more time she spotted the bookshelf - which was also messy. She shook her head.

I grinned as I searched for something to wear for school. "Really lame word joke Mom, but that's a very tempting offer, why wait till the end of the week when you can do it right now?" I found a shirt in the big pile on my chair and quickly began to dress.

"Because I really need to get new garbage-bags before I start-" I darted into the bathroom and began to hurriedly brush my teeth, but I still heard her last words, "-since the garbage-truck doesn't take anything with it unless it's properly wrapped."

"Whoa, Mom!" I exclaimed, alarmed, with a toothbrush in hand, "I promise I will clean up before the end of the week."

Before I closed my door and followed my mom downstairs I whispered quickly into my room, "Don't worry my sweet babies, I won't let the evil,_ evil_ woman throw you away; mommy's going to take care of you!"

"I heard that!" I heard my mom yell and I ran down the stairs. I kissed her quickly on the cheek, "Bye Mom, see you later!"

When I got to school, my best friend Cara was waiting for me already. Cara and I had been friends since kindergarten, they used to call us Tweedledee and Tweedledum, just because we were always together, and had even had a period where we finished each other's sentences. That ship had long since sailed, but we were still the best friends ever; I was sure of that.

We walked together through the long hallways filled with decorated lockers, chatting and giggling about different things that had caught our attention, before we got to our classroom.

There were only two seats taken when we entered the room as we were still a little early. We sat down at our usual places whilst continuing our chatting.

How oblivious I was to the change looming over my head like a dark cloud.

"Caylan, can I please borrow your notes? I really need to get a good grade for this test. Otherwise," she said gloomily, "my mom will take away my Xbox." My best friend was kind of a nerd, a bit like I was; we both liked videogames so I totally understood how awful it was to be deprived of your Xbox.

"Yeah sure - but why didn't you make your own notes?"

"I did, I just can't read it anymore."

"Can't read it anymore?" I repeated.

"Yeah, I really need to practise my writing skills…after I kick ass on my Xbox again!"

I sighed as I gave her my notes, "You're terrible, you know that?"

The teacher entered the class room, and started lecturing. And of course, I took my notes.

During the class our headmaster, Mr. Smith (or Smithy, as I liked to call him), came in.

"Miss Maxwell, could you please take your belongings and come with me?"

I remained quiet for a while, not answering his question. Why did he needed me to come with him? Never would our headmaster actually take the time to personally summon a student ... a sudden feeling crept up to me - as if a layer of ice had started wrapping my heart.

I started to pack my stuff, looking at my flabbergasted friend, "Psst, Cay, what the heck did you do?" I signed that I didn't know, and put my hand to my ear - promising to call her later, as I walked toward Mr. Smith.

I followed him through the halls of the school to his office, never being able to shake the feeling something terrible had happened. The layer of ice wrapped around my heart growing thicker and thicker every second. I felt cold and far away from the hallway we walked in, I attempted to set my mind on other things - like the occasional paintings hidden between groups of lockers. The first one was a scene of a meadow, with beautiful red and pink flowers.

The second one was a forest by night, with a full moon. I liked that painting. I liked the moon. It somehow always gave me the feeling of hope. No matter how dark everything seemed, the moon always lit everything up. I tried to keep that feeling of hope close as we arrived at his office.

As we entered his office, he offered me a chair. I must have looked at him suspiciously because he started to talk, "Caylan, I'm sorry, but I really think it would be best if you sit down."

That really didn't help melt the ice. But I did as I was told, and sat down. Mr. Smith also sat down and looked at me with pity written all over his face. It scared me ... no; it terrified me. What did he know that gave a reason to look at me like that? I think I never was so scared in my life. My hand started shaking when he spoke up. I clasped them together tightly.

"Caylan, I am so sorry to tell you this, but there has been an accident." I did nothing. Felt nothing. It was as if I had reached the tip of a rollercoaster ride - only to plummet so very fast to the bottom.  
" ... gas leak in your house ..." he was still speaking, I looked at him, waiting for the words to make sense, "... explosion ..." They didn't.

I parted dry lips; wanting to frame a question: _my mom's okay. Isn't she?_ But I wasn't speaking - he was, "I'm so sorry Caylan, your mother is badly wounded."

My unspoken question was answered. But not the way I wanted. You know that moment when you are watching a TV show? When you yell at the screen because _that shouldn't have happened!_?

Well it was happening to me now. Except it wasn't television. It was my life. He had paused to measure my reaction, I sat there, frozen. "Caylan, since your dad is not around, you will ..."

When the TV screen tells you something you don't want to hear - you switch it off. I ran. And ran as fast as I could. I needed to get away from there, I needed to get away from that place. But most of all, I wanted ... no _needed_ to go to my mom. I had to make sure she was okay - that she was safe.

Through the corridors, through the school. Past students and teachers. Does a gazelle notice the dry grass when the lion pursues? Except of course, a lion wasn't pursuing me. Fear was.

My heart was pounding in my chest as my feet hit the pavement. I ran on, feeling the wind blow through my hair and the whoosh of the cars driving past me on the road. A horn touted, my vision swam with tears; I blinked them back fiercely. I ran past a bookstore which had huge wallpapers and flyers promoting a new book. There was a giant full moon on them. I needed the moon; I needed hope.

I ran to my house, as quickly as I could. It didn't matter how out of breath I was, or how my feet burned, or how every muscle ached.

There was one last turn; past old Mr Hendrick's house. And then ...

And then I stopped. And looked past the fire trucks and the police cars, past the standing officers, uniformed and collected. Past everything ... to my house.

Except ... it couldn't have been my house. My house was painted green with creeping ivy up the front. My house had bushes in front of the downstairs window. The broken, burnt shell which stood there wasn't it. Couldn't be it.

The road smelt and smoke still trailed upwards from the ... my ... house.

_Mom ... _

_Mom._

_Mom!_

I darted forward, towards _it. _Someone must have seen me, and caught my hand. I looked up, into the eyes of a police officer.

"I am so sorry Miss, but you can't go there; it's dangerous."

I stared at him, and began to fight his grip "B-b-but that's my house. My mom ... she- _where is she?"_

I didn't feel the tears falling down my face, I only felt the officer's firm grip on my arm .

"I'm sorry Miss, there is no one in there anymore, they moved everyone to the hospital." I swallowed, nodded and turned to go ... _maybe I could take a taxi?_The officer stopped me, his face understanding, "I can give you a ride, if you like." I turned back around and nodded slowly, the ice around my heart spreading through my entire chest.

He showed me the way to his car, and I followed him, every step I took felt heavy; felt as if my shoes had gained several tonnes in weight. He opened the door for me, and I sat down in the passenger seat.

He walked around the car, and climbed into the driver's seat. He started the car and we took off. I kept my face pressed to the window and my eyes looking, searching the sky. But I couldn't find what I was looking for - the moon, or hope.

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**A/N: We hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you liked it or just want to share your opinion! Please do so at the white box below!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Hello Fellow Adverturers! We humbly thank you for sticking with us for another chapter. We hope you enjoy this as well as the previous chapters!**

**Oh - you may have noticed - we are updating once a week, as opposed to every two weeks. Because we want to deliver popco- ahem, the story. We want to give you the story with more speed.**

**Disclaimer: We do not own anything except the storyline and Caylan, consequently, we are very poor. If we did have money we would buy a popcorn maker and then, very generously, send a box with buttered flavoured popcorn to Hugh Jackman for acting so well as the Wolverine.**

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Chapter Two

It was a quiet ride, the police officer - who except for asking for my name and informing me of his, left me to myself. I was grateful.

Have you ever wondered how you would react if the rug was slipped from underneath you; if all you loved was snatched away? No?

It is like being submerged in an ice cold lake; only to surface and find that everything has changed - that the sun shines blue, the sky is yellow and the grass a blazing violet. The people you pass - like that woman with the wavy brown hair, her toddler clutched in her arms - they don't know. Their lives haven't changed. Only yours. And it isn't fair.

It wasn't fair.

"Was she ... seriously hurt?" I asked the officer.

He glanced at me briefly. I tried to make myself believe that pity wasn't the emotion in his eyes. "Ambulance had already left when I arrived at the scene."

Hope ... I clung onto it. I prayed that my last words to my mom wouldn't be about the mess in my room. I promised that I would always keep my room tidy; promised to do whatever my mom would want me.

It was like grasping at straws.

I stared out the window, watching the trees as we drove by. They were beautiful in this season. All the cherry-blossoms were in full bloom. That bothered me. Life was continuing on. Like a passer-by ignoring a drowning swimmer. I wrapped my arms around me as if to hug myself. I pretended it was my mom's safe arms again. Everything is going to be alright. It had to be.

I was still lost in thought when we arrived at the hospital. I felt my breath catch and it took several seconds for me to climb out of the car. Owen, the officer, as if by some unspoken agreement, followed me. The hospital entrance was big, and there were plants on each side of the entrance, filled with beautiful flowers. It felt as if they tried to make this horrible place look a little less horrible. It didn't work. I hurried inside, and it took several tries for me to get the words out and ask the nurse behind the counter where my mom was. Saying her name was more difficult than ever before. She pointed me the way to the waiting-room next to the O.R.

"Why is Mom not in a room?" I asked her, confused.

She looked down at her computer screen. "Oh, I'm sorry sweetheart; your mother is still in surgery." She explained with a calming smile, glancing over my shoulder to Officer Owen. "I think it would be best if you took a seat, it might be a while before the surgery is completed - they have just started."

"Uh...yeah..." I answered her. Officer Owen placed his hand on my arm and guided my towards the waiting room.

The hallways, the corridors ... they looked so clean. So white. It made me feel uncomfortable. It was as if they tried their best to clean the place of all the deaths that happened in this building.

Or maybe I was being overly gloomy. Maybe, the white represented ... healing. "Chin up." Mom would say, "look on the bright side."

I entered the waiting-room area and sat down. Officer Owen settled down on a the plastic chair next to me, the seat creaking in protest. An elderly lady, already seated, glanced up. I couldn't help but notice the fear in her eyes, even the wrinkles in her face seemed filled with worries.

Her hands fidgeted in her lap and she played with the handles of her handbag. The silence, with the distant echoes of movement in the halls beyond, weighed heavily down upon us.

"What is a sweet young lady like yourself doing in here?" she asked, her clear voice ringing out.

"Mom, er, my mom ... is in there," I answered hesitantly, glad that the silence was broken.

Her eyes softened, "Oh, I'm so sorry Miss."

"Caylan, my name is Caylan" I answered her. The silence grew thick again, Officer Owen shifted in his chair.

"Why, why are you here ma'am?" I asked, if only to break the silence.

"My husband. He is in there." she gripped her handbag. "My name is Caroline." Maybe she disliked the quiet as much as me.

"I hope he will get well soon Mrs Caroline" I said politely. She nodded and gave me a warm, if not quavering, smile, "I hope your mother will too Caylan."

The hours seemed to last forever. The minutes, the seconds; each was terrible. Each brought fear. I sat there, waiting, not even bothering to grab some magazines to read. I stared at my hands resting in my lap.

People came and went. Mrs Caroline drifted away, called by a nurse. Still I sat. Officer Owen snored beside me.

The door opened. I watched as a surgeon exited the O.R.

"Caylan Maxwell?"

I stood, slowly rising, scanning his face for a hint. "Yes?"

The corners of his mouth were turned down, and the look in his eyes was one of practiced pity. And then I knew.

My mom and me liked to watch hospital-soaps. It was kind of our girl-thing together. Together we drooled over hot actors. Together we laughed at the funny things. Together we cried when sad events happened; when that baby died or a well-beloved character found out they had cancer.

I did not want to become part of a sad thing like that - the sad thing where others cried about me. I didn't want to hear the dreaded words which the actors so casually said - probably without ever totally feeling the meaning of those words.

"Where is she?" I whispered, approaching him.

He frowned, perhaps unsure of my actions when he hadn't spoken a word.

I walked past him, ignoring his spluttered protest. He followed me, past the white doors which opened so easily and into the O.R.

There, on a steel table, was a body with a sheet draped over it. I lifted it, staring down. The nurses and interns must have been cleaning up around her. They moved to stop me. But they were too late.

I couldn't hold my own weight anymore, and my legs gave up. I dropped on the floor, a corner of the sheet clutched in my hand. It slid off her body, revealing a sight which surely could not be real.

I felt arms about me, attempting to drag me away. But I didn't move. Couldn't move. I looked at Mom, tears welling up in my eyes. I couldn't breathe.

I grabbed her mangled hand and just held it, while the tears started to fall. There were hushed voices behind me, whispering.

"Please Mom, Mom!" But she didn't move; didn't respond to my whispers nor my tears. I let my forehead touch her hand, and started to sob. "What am I going to do without you Mom?"

No one came near me as I mourned, perhaps someone put their hand on my shoulder. But I didn't know. Didn't care. I don't know how long I sat there. After a while I started to lose feeling in my legs; they became numb.

Someone - a nurse no doubt, tried to tear me away from Mom. She tried to lead me away from the table. At least, that was her plan I guess.

But my hand still gripped hers, and a strange tingling feeling started to spread from my heart. Through my shoulder, and my arm, all the way down to our joined hands. Mine young and without blemish hers ... hers ...

As soon as it reached my hand, it felt like it was transferring to my mother's. I saw my mom's wounds on her wrist close up with fresh skin appearing. But as soon as the healing started, so did the pain. My wrist felt like it was on fire; burning, bubbling and melting. But I saw nothing. No wounds and no burnings.

I didn't, couldn't let go of her hand because Mom was healing. She was getting better. I can save her! The jubilant thought rose up - soared above my pain clouded mind.

But it was hard; holding on to her. As her wounds on her lower arms started to heal, my pain grew worse. My skin felt like it was scorched and burning. Forever burning. I couldn't bear it anymore and started to scream. I had never screamed in that manner before - never with that much agony. I screamed as if I tried to scream my lungs out of my chest. As if my heart was getting ripped apart.

I felt people pulling at me - grabbing my wrists and yanking me away. But the pain grew greater. Even though I felt like I was dying, I wouldn't let go of my mom.

They were pulling me. I begged to be left alone. I pleaded to be allowed to stay. But the they wouldn't let go.

"Stop it!" I chocked, my voice hoarse, "I can save her!"

But the pain took its toll. While I fought to hold my grip on my mother's hand, I felt a wave of fire sweep up my body. I screamed. My consciousness slipping away from me. And then there was nothing. 

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**Thoughts? Feelings? Wondering what is going to happen next? Fill in the box below and join us next week as Caylan is Uprooted**


	4. Chapter 3

**Hello my dear readers,  
First of all I have some bad news, that might have some influence on your guys as well.  
My dear fellow writer, ThrowingTrees, is unfortunately unable to continue this story together with me.  
The reason I said it might have some influence on you, is because english is not my first language, so I hope you guys will bare with me  
when you find an error or mistake.**

**I hope the quality of the story, remains what you are used too!**

**And I would also like to thank my first reviewer, Iceleaf13! Thank you, you gave me a new boost in writing! :D**  
**And ofcourse I would like to welcome all new followers and favoriters!**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for Caylan and the storyline, if I did, I would be writing this in a nice warm and sunny country with alot of wildlife.**

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When I woke up I was alone in a white clean room, lying in a hospital bed. _What happened? _I asked myself. I looked around me, and noticed it was just an average hospital room. I got out of the bed and walked to the door. When I tried to open it, it wouldn't budge, I found myself locked up.

I went back to the bed and slowly sat back on it again, and tried to remember what had happened, that got me here. Then, I remembered. I remembered the pain, and I remembered the healing. And then I remembered my mother. And her death. _Did I save her? What was that? How did I do that? _ So many questions engulfed my head.

I walked to the door again. And started knocking on it. ""Hey! Is anybody there?!" I yelled, "Hello!" But there came no answer. But I wasn't planning on giving up that easily.

After a few hours of screaming I was too tired to even stand any longer, so I just dropped to the ground. I started sobbing and crying again. I was sad, angry and most of all confused.

I must have fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes again it was dark, and there was someone standing in the room. It was a man, he was wearing a black suit, with a matching hat. He had cold light eyes, and small lips, with the corners of his mouth pointing down. The man scared me, although I couldn't quite tell why.

"So you are finally awake? You kicked quite a scene there. It took everyone hours to calm down"

"Who the hell are you and where is my mother?! I can fix her!"

"No you can't, a schoolgirl can do no better than a doctor" he sneered

"Yes I can! I touched her, and there was this pain, and it started to heal her!" I tried again almost begging.

"Child, you are talking nonsense, only those monsters called mutants may have that sort of power, you were just in shock, and because of that, you were imagining things."

I looked at the man with a confused look, I knew he was lying, but why would he, and who was he? "But...but...I... who are you?" I nearly stuttered.

"My name is Jonathan Taylor, and I am going to take you to your foster house" he answered with a cold glare.

"My...foster house? Why?"

"Because you are not an adult, and someone has to take care of you until you are, don't worry we found someone near, so you won't have to change schools" he explains impatiently "now come on, your foster parents are waiting, so we must hurry"

Suddenly I was so tired, I didn't understand anything that had happened, so I just followed him, and I didn't argue anymore. I just gave up. My mom was gone, and it felt like my life was over. Fighting wouldn't change anything.

The next weeks were a blur. I let everything happen. I didn't argue, I didn't fight. I gave up. I didn't had the courage nor the energy anymore to do so. Why would I? My mom was gone. Dead. And nothing I could do now, could bring her back.

The loneliness I felt, devastated me. It felt like a hole was punched through my chest. And nothing i could do, could fill the emptiness I felt inside of me. And the emptiness only grew bigger by the pity-looks that followed me everywhere I went.

I was no longer Caylan Maxwell, the loving and carefree girl, an average student, living in the suburbs of a big city, together with her mom.

I was Caylan, a poor girl, who lost her mom to early. An Orphan. A Foster kid. A girl that you should feel sorry for.

I just ignored them, shut out everything and everyone . I would just do what everyone wanted me to, and when I was done, for example with my chores or homework, I would sit in the chair in my room, pull up my knees, and hug them firmly while staring out the window, until my roommate, Kate, would go to bed, and I would follow.

That was pretty much my life then, day after day. I never even thought about the whole scene that occurred at the hospital again. I tried so hard not to think about it. The man that brought me to my foster house had said only mutants had that sort of power. I didn't want to think about the possibility of being a mutant myself. It wasn't something I could handle on my own. So I banned it from my mind.

That is until everything changed...  
When word came in our school what had happened in the hospital, the mean girls at school started to pick on me. Calling me a freak in the beginning and later calling me a mutant as well, because everyone had heard about the scene in the O.R, some people even started to believe it, and grew scared of me.

I became the schools paria. Even Cara tried so hard not to be seen together with me. Scared to fall victim to the mean girls at school. And just when I was sure nothing would ever be good again, I came 'home' again, after a long day at school, to find the most luxurious car in my foster parents driveway.

"Miss Lowell? I am home, I'm going to make homework in my room" I say as I walk to the stairs with my backpack on one shoulder.

"Caylan, wait one second please, there is someone here to meet you" Miss Lowell answers to me.

School was horrible again today, so I didn't really feel like it to act happy and joyful to meet someone, who I really couldn't care less about.

"I am coming" I sighed as I put down my backpack. And walked down the hall into the livingroom.  
"Hi Caylan, I would like you to meet Mister Xavier" My foster mother tells me as I enter the living room.

There was a gentleman sitting on the flowery couch. The man was bold and he had friendly eyes which seemed to sparkle a bit. He had a warm smile on his face, and I decided I liked the man.

"Hello, nice to meet you, my name is Caylan" I say politely to him, and I turned to miss Lowell and say

"Good afternoon Miss Lowell, is it okay if I go make my homework now?"

"No Caylan, Mr. Xavier is here for you " As I try to process what she just told me the man spoke up.

"Hi Caylan, my name is professor Charles Xavier, and I am representing Xaviers School for Gifted Youngsters. We had heard about you, and we are certain you would fit in perfectly at our school" he said with a British accent.

I raised an eye brow, "a school for gifted youngsters? You must be mistaken, I am not gifted, my grades are average, and I suck at sports sir"

"No my dear child, we are sure we are at the right address, your grades may be average, but we are certain you are the kind of student we are looking for," he said. "An old student of mine works at the local hospital here, she told me about you"

_The hospital? But that means...he heard...no..no that's not possible! Keep yourself together Caylan. You have no reason to believe he heard *that*..._She internally struggled with herself. "The hospital sir?"

"I beg your forgiveness Miss Maxwell. I have to explain myself better. One of my former students who work in the hospital here, told me about you and thought that I might be able to help you. It must've been such a shock what happened there"

"What happened there?" My foster mother cut in "May I ask what you mean by that Mr. Xavier?"

"But Miss Lowell, I mean the tragic loss of her mother of course" He answered her, and then looked at me again.

_-You are not the only one with gifts Miss Maxwell, it is alright, I can help you- _I heard his voice in my head.

I nod flabbergasted and look at my foster mother, she looks from me to the professor and speaks up

"I'm sorry, it really sounds expensive, and I don't have that kind of money, I am not even sure if the government will provide the money for that sort of education, I'm terribly sorry you came all this way for nothing"

The professor spoke up again "On the contrary, Miss Maxwell gets a full scholarship for her education, as well as a place at our facility, she will live with us, and we will pay everything for her. We will make sure all the paperwork is filed in correctly. That is, when she decides to come with us"

The professor turns to me again "Miss Maxwell, what do you say?"

I take a minute to process all that she said and answer "If I say yes, when will I leave?"

"Well you would need a few days to say your goodbyes at your school, and to pack your things, so probably a couple of days from now"

I nod, and thought it over quickly. Leaving school here, leaving the place I was once so happy, but that had became my own personal world of hurt. And my decision came quick when I realised I could started over again. A new school, where nobody knew who I was. A new place where I wouldn't be 'the fosterkid' anymore. Or 'the freak'.

"I want to go, but I want to leave now." Our house guest was very cheerful about my decision and told me I just needed to pack my belongings. It wouldn't take long because there were not many left, since most of them were destroyed in the explosion. I packed them in garbage bags, because I had nothing else to put them in to. I said my goodbye's to my foster mother and thanked her for her care. I even gave her a small hug.

I packed up my belongings and walked through the front door, when I came outside I noticed the sunshine and the flowers. I walked to the driveway where the professor was waiting next to his car. I walked up to him and he opened the rear of the car for me to put my belongings away.

I turned around one last time and waved to my former foster mother, before I stepped in the car in the passenger's seat.

"Professor? Would you mind driving by somewhere first?"

"Of course not, Miss Maxwell," he said with a gentle tone. "Where would you like me to go?"

"Euhm...it's...a left turn at the end of this street" I shyly explained. "The building site in that street...I need to go there, before we leave" I added softly whispering.

"Very well my dear child." He answered and followed her directions.

The car stopped next to a building site, just as I had asked. I got out of the car, and hesitantly walked over to the middle of it. I knelt down, and touched the dirt on the ground.

"Mom, I'm going to leave for a while. A new school...where they can help me... "I spoke softly "I love you mom." And with that I stood up, and walked back to the car, as I tried to fight the tears welling up in my eyes.

I stepped into the car again, and silently nodded, as a sign we could drive again. I never looked up. I stared at my hands which were neatly placed on my lap.

And just like that, my new life began, and I remembered how my mom once shared her some of her wisdom with me.

I remembered being scared because of a movie we watched, where a lion cub loses his dad, and my mom told me to stay strong "Sweetie, don't worry, it may look sad now, but you know what, everything ends well, if it is not well, it is not the end"

I started to look forward to my new school, I didn't realise the surprise I was in for when we drove off to New York, to my new life...


	5. Chapter 4

**Hello my dear readers!  
Thank you for sticking with me for so long, and thanks to the help of .happy (my Beta :D) No more grammar errors or any other whatsoever :D**

**I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, if you have any thoughts about it, please share it and leave a review!**  
**I want to thank my second reviewer, Sky Howlett, as well! I am glad you enjoy this story!**  
**And to give you guys a sneak preview, it will probably take 1 more chapter before she meets Logan :D**

**But before that! Please enjoy this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything, except for Caylan and the storyline, if I did, I would _own_ Hugh Jackman, and I would die a happy person :D**

* * *

Chapter 4.

Caylan sighed deeply, staring blankly at the wall.

"Looks like you're my only friend in here, Wally," she murmured, calling the bricks by their newly-christened name.

She had finally reached the stage where her best friend was a wall. Fantastic.

"It's funny the way things turned out," she continued. "When I lost my mother, I lost faith in everything. Well, until the professor came to pick me up... I started to get it all back again."

She shook her head, staring at her hands.

"But I guess you already know how it is, not having hopes or dreams. To be dead inside, empty." She kept speaking as she started to stare at the gray bricks. "And the worst part is that you don't even know how empty you are until your dreams come back again. I... I felt alive again."

She sighed, defeated.

"_He _made me feel alive again."

Slowly, she shifted her weight, the numbness in her legs beginning to set in. Her eyes darting from one brick to another, Caylan searched the wall for some sort of sign. Anything that might show it had heard her.

"Seriously Caylan…?" she scoffed to herself. "Man, I really _am_ going crazy now."

She stood up suddenly, flexing the aching mucles in her leg. As she wiped off the fine layer of dust that had settled on her pants, her eyes fell onto a small white rock on the ground. Examining it carefully, she picked it up, rolling the small stone between her fingers. Caylan walked over to the wall and, as if she'd done it a thousand times before, etched a white mark onto it's surface.

She stared at it for a few moments, an idea beginning to grow in her head.

A determined grin spread across her face as she scraped the stone across the wall. What felt like hours later, the white marks became lines, and the lines had arranged themselves into a drawing.

Gingerly, Caylan stepped back to examine her masterpiece. A detailed outline of the moon stared back at her, the white of it shining in the gloom. Even though it was her own picture, the sight of it took her breath away.

Caylan had always associated the moon with hope.

As the tears begun to well in her eyes, Caylan slid to the ground, her legs unable to stand the crushing weight pushing down on her shoulders.

The sight of the moon brought back so many memories. Some broke her heart to remember, and others she longed to relive again. She didn't know how long she sat there, replaying memories inside her head until she could barely think straight.

"If you had a time machine, what would you do, Wally?"

She paused expectantly, almost as if waiting for an answer.

"I think... I'd only change one thing. I would - "

"Miss Maxwell, your sanity seems to be disappearing by the second," a man's voice cut into the cell. "Are you talking to yourself now? What's next, your imaginary boyfriend coming to your rescue?"

She turned around, looking the man straight into his grey-eyes and cocking an eyebrow.

"Having seen the people in here, my own company seems pretty damn good to me."

A cold cloud crossed the man's face.

"I see you haven't lost your smartass attitude."

"I see you haven't lost your fabulous people skills," she threw back at him, smirking.

As if it were infectious, a smile grew across the man's face. It was a cold, cruel grin that chilled Caylan to the bone.

The man stepped towards her, and as he did, Caylan took a step backwards, hoping she could maintain the distance between them forever.

"Not so confident anymore, are we?" he hissed.

"I d-don't know what your t-talking about" she stuttered.

_Dammit, Caylan!_ she thought to herself. _Don't let your enemy see your fear, first rule of combat!_ She felt like screaming.

"Don't worry," he said as he took another step towards her, cornering her against the wall. "Nobody will hear your screams." He smirked sadistically."When I'm done with you, you're going to wish you were dead."

The cold, devilish smile persisted in twisting his face.

"Someone very wise once taught me never to scream out loud," replied Caylan, trying to draw bravery from the memory of her mother. She kept her tone brazen, trying to fool him into thinking she wasn't scared at all.

But, by the glint in his grey-green eyes, she knew she had failed miserably.

He chuckled, amused.

"Let's see if you can keep that promise."

He was so close that the odour of his bad aftershave was beginning to burn her nostrils.

"I'm not afraid of you," Caylan tried again, desperately this time. "If you hurt me, you'll be sorry!"

"Oh, I beg to differ, sweet, silly Caylan," he replied, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. "Who'll make me sorry? Your stupid mutant friends don't even know you're here."

Caylan swallowed, trying to brace herself.

"Or perhaps your knight in shining armour?" he continued. "But …wait -you'll have to give me a minute here - didn't he…._die_?" He chuckled to himself again. "No, I don't think I'll be sorry at all. No-one will come for you. Who in their right mind would ever come for a freak like you?"

Tears had started to well in her eyes as he brought up Logan's death.

"Do what you want….I don't care anymore..." she said flatly.

Somewhere deep inside of herself, Caylan flipped a switch, cutting off the part of her that felt emotion. It was her most instinctive mechanism of defence, a wall she hadn't thrown up since her mother had died.

Just as she had braced herself, a burst of pain exploded across her vision, cracking its way through her body. By the time he had finished with her, she was on the floor, broken, bloody and bruised. All the muscles in her body ached.

Slowly, she dragged herself over to the wooden bed, slowly pulling herself up onto it.

_I was so wrong…I could never avenge Logan…_

Trying to keep a brave face, she closed her eyes and waited for sleep to come.

* * *

Elsewhere in the building, the grey-eyed man reported to his superior, bringing the latest updates on his progress.

"Did you complete the task?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And your findings?"

"She lost the ability to regenerate her health, Sir. She cannot longer heal herself."

The superior officer half-smiled and began to pace across the room.

"So the experiments have been a success. That's good, very good…"

And with those parting words, he dimissed the younger man, waving him out of the room.

* * *

When Caylan woke up the next morning, every movement hurt.

She tried to stretch, but the pain was too much. Her legs felt as though they had been smashed over and over again with a rusty hammer.

"Moron," she hissed, "did he have to go berserk like that!?"

Groaning softly, she tried to push herself up onto the bed. It took her a few goes - her arms kept giving way underneath her. She leaned against the wet, cold wall in relief, soaking the welcome chill into her feverish, sore body.

"Ugh. Wally, what if he was right? I mean, really, who would come for me? I don't even have powers anymore. They took care of that just fine."

Trying to numb the pain building in her limbs, Caylan fixated her gaze on the pale, iradescent moon glowing on the wall.

"I suppose I should tell you what happens next - I haven't even mentioned Logan yet. You know, what I regret the most, is that I never really told him how much he meant to me…" She took a pause, trying to phrase the story in her head.

"Of course, I told him I liked him - I even told him I loved him once, I just never said what he _meant_. You know?"

For a moment, Caylan was lost in her own thoughts.

"But I guess I'm getting ahead of myself now, so…where was I? Oh, yeah. My arrival at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Truth be told, Wally, that place was my salvation. After Mom died - well, that school taught me how to live again..."


	6. AN Delay (I

**Hello my dear readers,**

As the title suggests, my latest chapter is currently delayed.  
Ofcourse I could make an excuse like, 'my dog ate my notebook!' But I don't have a dog XD.  
(I am not counting my mothers dogs).

I just had a really busy week, so I did not have any time at all to write, so I hope you all will forgive me,  
Next week saturday, there is going to be a BIG chapter. And Caylan is finally going to meet Logan *YAY*

As for now, please all enjoy your weekend, and I hope you guys will forgive me :)

Bye bye's

Moos90 


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